A tiny figure in a blue smock came scuttling over the sloping lawn.

The next thing I saw was the small blue patch somewhere in the upland region of Jaffery's beard.

Then boomed forth from him idiotic exclamations which are not worth chronicling, accompanied by a duet of bass and treble laughter.

Then he set her astride of his bull neck and pitched his soft felt hat to Adrian to hold.
"Hang on to my hair.

It won't hurt," he commanded.
She obeyed literally, clawing two handfuls of his thick reddish shock in her tiny grasp, and Jaffery lumbered along like an elephant with a robin on his head, unconscious of her weight.